Fifteen
by rosereldew
Summary: Three different girls turn fifteen under three different circumstances. Each preoccupied with their own life, if it had not been for the one before they would not have life at all. And no matter what happens, the future is not set in stone.


**I do not own Fire Emblem: Awakening or its characters. They are property of Nintendo.**

**As a small note, I am a bit insecure about this piece and particularly Cynthia's characterization. Helpful criticism is welcome.**

* * *

"Darling, I've been waiting for fifteen minutes here," Maribelle said, shaking her head. "You said you'd meet me fifteen minutes _ago…_"

Lissa smiled sheepishly, looking around the market with a partially nervous and partially pensive expression. It was five years since the city was deemed completely safe for the daughter of Ylisse's _atrocious_ previous ruler, and Maribelle still insisted on making sure she was relatively on time for her appointments. Just two months back, Lissa had gotten a few jeers walking out in public, not like what her sister faced earlier, not nearly as bad as it had been eleven years ago, but something that still stirred up old fears.

"Sorry, Maribelle…" she said. "I was watching Chrom train today before I went to meet you, and he kept breaking stuff-"

"So you decided to stay and warn him when he got too close to another window?" Maribelle asked and sighed. The image of Chrom training wasn't unfamiliar to her, nor was the image of him breaking a few crates and windows while he was at it. It was a wonder he was so succinct in combat, really, but she had to admit that watching him fight was something that got her pulse racing.

And she would _never _say that to _anyone._

"...Yeah." Lissa giggled nervously. "But he said he'd come meet you when he was done!"

"How very nice of him," said Maribelle, lips pursed. In all actuality, she was glad Chrom was to join them, but the time he'd spent taking Lissa from her was just _impudent_.

"Yep!" Lissa was unaware of Maribelle's connotations. As usual. "We didn't want to ruin your birthday, really!"

"...I believe you, dear," Maribelle said. She smiled at last and pointed to a nearby shop.

"That little shop has some lovely hats, dresses and the like," she said. "Lissa, dear, would you ever consider keeping clean if there was a nice dress included?"

"Uh," said Lissa. She looked in another direction and then another, probably scoping out a shop, any other shop, but that one. For someone who complained about not being a proper lady, Lissa was very disinclined to it on an instinctive level.

But consciously, she had other inclinations.

"Sure! But Maribelle, _I'm _not turning fifteen."

"Of course not, Lissa." Maribelle began taking graceful strides, (graceful in her mind, at the very least), towards the shop. "But it is a downright gift to me to see you looking your best! Not that we can't do anything else-

"I've got a plan for the day, you see. First the shop here, then on to a snack at the coffeehouse west of this street. Then-" Maribelle furrowed her eyebrows very slightly and said, "But say, where does your brother plan on meeting us?"

"...We didn't exactly-" Lissa shook her head. "No, geez, I'm sorry, Maribelle-"

"Do you mean to tell me that the Prince of Ylisse is going to be wandering the streets of his city, lost as a stray dog, looking for his sister and a friend when he could be doing more training?" Maribelle asked.

"I'm _sorry…_" Lissa repeated. "...I guess we have to wait here? He knows where I'm heading, at least, maybe he thinks we'll wait for him."

"Very well, we'll have to," Maribelle said. It was completely improper for her to leave a prince such as him looking for them, and she wouldn't disregard _proper _respect.

"..." Maribelle hesitantly sat down on a barrel. Lissa followed her lead and looked off into the road hopefully, as though she could make her brother appear from the crowd through sheer will.

"..." my, what pretty girls there were out and about this afternoon… well, of course on Maribelle's birthday there would have to be openings for a half dozen shops. Oh, it was nice to have some new gift ideas on her special day, but did so many of the new customers have to be trendy noblewoman who would've liked to exchange a coquettish glance or, by the gods, _words _with the friendly and noble Prince?

"Oh, I see him now!" Lissa said.

Maribelle snapped out of her musings and looked up to see Chrom himself, not seeming the least bit tired from breaking things, walking and waving at them.

Heads turned in the crowd. Chrom and Lissa weren't the exalt and thus could roam the city as they liked, but it was a big city nonetheless and meeting either of the two was a slim chance.

"Maribelle! Lissa!" Chrom said. "Thanks for waiting."

He smiled at her.

"Of course, my lord." Maribelle smiled back. She lowered her voice. "I trust that you have not had any difficulties arriving?"

"Of course not," Chrom said. He laughed a little, maybe nervously. "Thank you for the concern, though."

"Naturally. But I daresay that we've made remarkable improvements, so perhaps my fears are just a bit… hmph," said Maribelle. "I don't want to put a damper on my own special day, though, so let us enjoy our time here and look at the dresses!"

"...Dresses?" Chrom muttered.

Lissa gave him a bit of an, _oh, well, let's just go with it_, look.

That was their utmost concern.

* * *

Mother… Father…

Lucina gazed silently down at the portrait of her parents, standing together with fingers entwined, staring up at her- no, the painter, happy. It had been done just after their wedding, while the Risen threat was something that could be put aside for even a little moment to enjoy matrimonial bliss.

"I love you."

It had been so long since she'd seen her mother, and the last memory she could recall from when she was ten was a game of chess that Maribelle insisted on instructing a future leader in. Lucina was decent at it, but she had really just enjoyed playing so she could spend time with her mother. The dress she had had years ago was too small for her now, but its blue silk and lace remained packed in her bag, taken anywhere, everywhere.

And Father. How could she tell him, dead now, how much she loved him other than by fighting the way her taught her? Protecting herself like he had, protecting others, protecting those he'd loved so much?

This was what she got for her fifteenth birthday, and it was a present she was keeping for her life.

"I can't believe I forgot about that," said a voice behind her. Lucina started, turning around and seeing Aunt Lissa looking down at her with a strange, melancholy expression.

Even in the worst of times, Aunt Lissa was upbeat.

"You'll have to forgive me, sweetie…" Aunt Lissa plopped down beside Lucina on the bumpy floor of the tent. "...I forgot that that was still in the palace. When we went back to collect Kirna's family… I remembered."

"No, Aunt Lissa…" Lucina looked up at her, eyes watery. "Aunt Lissa, I'm so grateful! I'll always keep this with me, and when Brady's older… even if I die, he'll have this too. Please, if you're still alive."

"Yes, don't worry," Aunt Lissa said. She patted Lucina's head as though she were a puppy. "Don't worry, Lucina! And I have a next in line in my kid, too, you know. He's Chrom's nephew."

"...Yes." Lucina momentarily saw Owain presenting her baby brother with the portrait, saying, _behold, your predecessors, those from whom you sprang in the before times!_ Hm. How amusing. "Thank you, again. I have a network of people to keep this."

She looked down at her parents again, still smiling at her.

No matter how many deaths occurred, they would still smile.

No matter how many homes destroyed, they would still smile.

No matter how horrible anyone's life was when they saw Chrom and Maribelle, they would be met with two smiling faces.

And they smiled, knowing what could happen. They could still do that for their country.

_If they can, so can I. If they can, so can we._

Lucina stood.

"I'm going to check up on Inigo's shoulder. Perhaps we can use forest herbs as ointment, if you're busy with the rest," Lucina said. A total of three civilians and two other fighters, one being Kjelle, were injured after the skirmish yesterday. They had had to move again, too.

"Good idea," said Aunt Lissa.

The tent was warm. It was a warm day. Lucina did not dread leaving.

She stepped out and looked at the hastily assembled camp, multiple little fires and only a few large tents.

Life would go on.

That was their utmost concern.

* * *

"_Happy birthday!" _Cynthia cried, sticking her arms up in the air and waving them around. Morgan laughed.

"Thanks! I don't even know how old I am, but…" she shrugged. "it could be worse. It could be a lot worse."

Really, it was a miracle Morgan remembered when her birthday was at all. And a few of her new friends didn't believe her, (particularly Severa, who'd voiced her suspicion that it was just a ruse to get presents in front of Mother, Father, and Grandmother), but Cynthia wasn't skeptical in the slightest and definitely wasn't throwing out birthday celebrations, even if or maybe because her own was in nine days as well.

"I'll say!" Cynthia said. "Do you want to go to that hairbrush place that just reopened? It closed down because of the Risen, but noooow we've got it back again!"

"Sure," said Morgan. "Hairbrushes are my friend."

Cynthia patted the back of Morgan's neck, right where the Brand was. Another reminder that despite the lack of memories Morgan had for her mother, she was still Lucina's daughter without a trace of a doubt.

They began walking towards the shop, stopping to ask for directions every so often, (which led to conversations about how many catastrophes it would take before more than a handful of people recognized them, and how patience was sadly a virtue.)

"So, is it weird for you to see all of this?" Morgan asked. "As in, you always heard about it as a kid, and now…"

"It's here?" Cynthia said. "Sure! But I care more about how we saved this place than how weird it is. Life's weird, that's what makes it cool, and why we have to have heroes to begin with! And there are a lot of them, so yeah, life's just super weird."

"Yeah, weird," Morgan repeated. "I guess it's all a mix of weird and not weird for me, like how I see all these shops and get ideas of what's common, but I… you know. I can't exactly recall."

"Aw! I'm sorry!" Cynthia said. "Maybe we'll just keep trying, and then you'll start to remember a million cool things!"

"Maybe," Morgan said. She opened the door to the shop they'd just stopped at. "I'll see."

"...And," Cynthia said before she went ahead, "It's weird that I'm friends with Lucina's daughter. You're just kind of weird yourself."

"Thanks."

Cynthia hopped into the shop before Morgan.

The shopkeeper smiled at them, probably unaware of their role in the army. It had only been a few months.

"So, do you know who I am?" Cynthia chirped as Morgan quietly followed her.

"I..." the shopkeeper trailed off. The current celebrities of the time were those who had saved them from the Risen. "Are you a soldier? You're just so very young..."

"Heroes are born through their _might_, not age," said Cynthia matter-of-factly.

"Oh." the shopkeeper nodded, hasty and perhaps a bit uncomfortable with the forthright "hero" in front of her. "Thank you. What can I get you?"

"How much is this comb?" Morgan asked, examining the periwinkle edge with half an eye for it.

That, and only that, was her concern for now.


End file.
